


Florida Man Claims He's Canadian Mountie; Threatens to Arrest People Despite Being Drunk, Outside of Jurisdiction

by advancedclass



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 08:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20404888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/advancedclass/pseuds/advancedclass





	Florida Man Claims He's Canadian Mountie; Threatens to Arrest People Despite Being Drunk, Outside of Jurisdiction

"CEASE THAT AT ONCE, EVILDOER!"

The voice thundered in Gary's ears, the sudden shock almost making him trip over a rising crack in the concrete. "What?"

On the other side of the street, clearly visible despite the dim light of the evening, was the source of the shocking, night-tearing voice.

It was a man, wearing a brilliant orange safety vest, which was the closest thing to sensible Gary could see. Nighttime safety precautions were suddenly also acting to save him from the danger of Saturday night madness.

He hoped it was just because it was Saturday night, full moon, and not something he might encounter in daylight on a Wednesday while grocery shopping.

"DON'T MOVE!"

He was walking a bike painted blinding white and toxic green, which was an offense to the eyes, but not that strange. The deer antlers mounted on the handlebars were. He walked the antlered bike across the street to where Gary stood, unsure if running would make the man more dangerous and unpredictable. If he realized he could pedal the bike, Gary was sure he'd be caught instantly, and then probably impaled on the end of an antler.

The man had a dingy brown cowboy hat on his head and reddish cowboy boots and when he got close to Gary, the smell of alcohol was unmistakable. He leaned away from the man, only for him to scoot the bike closer, until an antler was prodding Gary's torso. He leaned over the handlebars, avoiding the antlers, and blew potent breath directly up Gary's nostrils. "Do you know," he began, his voice a gravely chain-smoker's rasp, "what you did, boy?"

Gary wished he'd listened to his girlfriend when she suggested he carry mace. "No sir?"

"YOU GOT NO RESPECT FOR THE LAW, BOY?"

"No sir! I mean, yes sir!" Gary tried to catch the eye of another sane citizen, anyone who could help, but they had all crossed to the opposite side of the street and were taking care not to accidentally let their gaze travel to where Gary and the man in the orange vest were facing off.

The man spit on the ground, making sounds like a man gargling cement. "Boy, you're lucky I'm feeling kindly tonight. I'd normally be calling up the rest of the boys and they'd be here on their horses faster than you believe, and you know running won't do you any good, not when you're dealing with the ARE CEE EM PEE."

It was futile, but Gary said it anyway: "Sir, this is Miami."

"DON'T SASS ME BOY, I KNOW WHERE WE ARE." The man spit again, a gelatinous loogy landing on the toe of Gary's sneaker and dripping slowly onto the pavement. "And you can bet her majesty the Queen is gonna be plenty disappointed to hear about how the citizens in one of her beautiful and God fearing cities don't follow SIMPLE LAWS like saluting at every crosswalk before they walk across in memory of her dear departed kingly daddy."

"What."

"If I catch you at this sort of thing again, boy, I'll arrest you good and proper, and I never forget a face, you can be sure of that. But this time, I'm just giving you a warning." The man reached into the pocket of his orange vest and ripped something from a larger sheet of paper, pressing it into Gary's hand. "You take that seriously now, boy. I don't want to see you flaunting this nation's laws so flagrantly in the future." With that, the man squared his cowboy hat on his head and walked his bike away down the street.

Gary pocketed the expired pizza coupon and walked quickly in the other direction.


End file.
